


Smile the While

by Meldanya



Series: So Wait and Pray [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: After many days, F/M, Ficlet, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:23:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6433471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meldanya/pseuds/Meldanya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1919. Rosie Robinson is preparing their home for her husband's return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile the While

**Author's Note:**

> Dealing with writer's block on a longer story, and this is the kind of thing my brain churns out. 
> 
> The book Rosie's quoting is _Anne's House of Dreams_ by L.M. Montgomery which is about Anne and Gilbert's early married years. It was published in 1917, and the Anne books sold very well in Australia, so it's quite possible Rosie would have read them all.
> 
> The song is [Till We Meet Again](https://youtu.be/5qC--q5OhR8) which was published in 1918, about sweethearts returning from the front.

Mrs. Jack Robinson smiled as she looked around her parlour. Her new home. Her house of dreams. She had spent the past few months preparing as best her budget would allow, and finally everything was ready for her husband's return. 

Their wedding china was displayed in the dining room, the chests were overflowing with the her hand-stitched linens, her embroidered pillows fluffed on the chairs. The parlour had their pictures on the walls, their bookshelves filled with Jack’s and her collections. “Our library isn’t very extensive, but every book in it is a _ friend,_” quoted Rosie to herself, and she smiled. That quote was from a book she’d recently read -- she had so many books ready to share with him. 

Her father had given her his piano for this house, saying he’d never play it. Rosie ran her hands over the keys, thinking of their old courtship days in her father’s parlour, playing duets with Jack for hours. She had already laid out a selection of their old favourites and new music, all ready for him. Rosie sat down to practice a little, playing one of the recent songs:

_There’s a song in the land of the lily_  
_Each sweetheart has heard with a sigh,_  
_Over high garden walls, this sweet echo falls_  
_As a soldier boy whispers goodbye_  


She’d kissed her soldier husband goodbye five long years ago, after far too short a time together. Five years ago, she’d sent him off with a brave face and a trembling heart, closed up their little flat, and moved back in with her father to do her best for the war effort. 

Years of terror, years of snatching the newspapers, years of waiting for every precious letter. Years where every phone call, every telegram was a potential notice of doom.  Rosie’s days had been filled with long hard work, and the nights with nightmares of Jack’s body being ripped apart.

Her heart twisted when she thought of the lads that were never coming home: her sister’s sweetheart, Jack’s cousins, so many of the boys she’d laughed and danced with. She didn’t know how they would face the future without them. 

But, she was so lucky, Jack, her Jack, was coming home, whole, safe and sound. Rosie kept playing through the song. 

_ Smile the while you kiss me sad adieu, _ __  
_ When the clouds roll by I'll come to you, _ __  
_ Then the skies will seem more blue, _ __  
_ Down in lovers lane my dearie. _ __

Rosie's eyes were wet with tears as she played through the refrain. Her house, her husband. She would finally have both together -- Jack would love this home, she knew it (and it would be such a lovely surprise for him).

They’d spend evenings in here, in front of the fire, sipping cocoa, playing piano, reading books. They’d bring back their household quips and teasing, as she fed him one delicious meal after another. They’d have their friends and family over for dinners and card nights, playing parlour games for hours. There was a little garden out back -- they could work on it together on sunny summer days. Jack's smile, Jack's laugh, Jack's arms around her at night. They’d be together, always together.

_ Wedding bells will ring so merrily, _ __  
_ Every tear will be a memory, _ __  
_ So wait and pray each night for me, _ _  
_ _Till we meet again._

He was coming home. He was safe. And he was coming home to _her_. The tears she’d been holding back for years were streaming down her face. 

There was a heavy tread in the entrance, and she heard a voice call out, “Rosie, sweetheart?” Her father. She wiped her eyes and put on a wide smile. “Yes, father!”

George Sanderson popped his head into the parlour, “Ready to go greet that young man of yours?” 

Rosie felt like she was going to explode with joy, “More than anything.” She stood up, straightened her hat, and left to go meet Jack’s ship. 


End file.
